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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740784">three times they laughed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothdotjpeg/pseuds/mothdotjpeg'>mothdotjpeg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Almost Kiss, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannigram - Freeform, Injured Hannibal Lecter, M/M, One Shot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), They get a dog, i got carried away with fluff at the end excuse me, idk how to tag, laughing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:34:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothdotjpeg/pseuds/mothdotjpeg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three snap-shots of them laughing, not all of them good. </p>
<p>~And that's when it happened. So soft and sudden, without warning. Hannibal laughed. Chuckled, really, until Will flinched in reaction, eyes darting back to Hannibal. That made Hannibal actually laugh and it was so warm and so un-Hannibal that Will couldn't help but smile at him. So confused and dazed.~</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>three times they laughed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first time was unexpected. An unfamiliar feeling in the hot humid air. Nothing like the silent interactions, caught gazes, and quiet understanding. In their big, empty house. Will had grown somewhat used to this lifestyle. A starch difference from the cold cabin he had lived in with Molly. This was hot, humid, just the two men and the distance between them. It had only been a few months since the cold sea had taken their bleeding bodies and spat them back out. For a while, the many endless weeks that Hannibal had been scarily still and weak, Will had resented the sea. Wished that he could hold Hannibal as he had in that water. That they had died there. But those thoughts had passed once Hannibal had started sitting up in bed, smiling softly at Will. Although he avoided returning the gaze, he felt safer. Less alone. The two of them barely talked, that’s what Will started to resent next, the silence. Quiet meals that Will had made, glad Hannibal never complained about his cooking. Silent days spent apart, never too far. Close enough that Will could aid Hannibal’s pain. But far enough that Will wasn’t constantly reminded of the weak man still stuck in bed. It made his stomach sick to see him so fragile. He was also sick of Hannibal’s eyes lingering at his cheek, admiring or resenting the scar, Will couldn’t tell. Empty nights that made sleeping hard, but Will had learned to be quiet. Even when he found himself sitting against the door to Hannibal’s room, he never woke him. After he realized the silence wasn’t going anywhere, he accepted it. Enjoying the soft glances that he caught his way, he found the intimacy in Hannibal’s hand reaching out to take the medication from his hand, the understanding and respect in the action of washing Hannibal’s hair for him. Nothing was between them, but it still felt empty. Unspoken words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first time Hannibal spoke to Will, his voice was rough. Low and almost whispered, as if talking hurt him. It shouldn’t have, it had been a few months since the sea. He was able to walk now, cook sometimes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You find yourself sitting outside my door more often these days.” Will was sitting perched on the end of Hannibal’s bed, dinner had been eaten, dishes had been cleaned, the night air was welcomed to the tired men. Will hadn’t slept the night before, body tired from adventuring the small town they found themselves in. Hannibal had cooked for hours, leaned on Will more than usual when he had helped him up the stairs, his eyes had looked tired as if he hadn’t slept either. Will worried he was in pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was silent, taking in Hannibal’s words. A deep red ache had emerged from his chest, an unknown want and need. Craving, hunger in his fell-fed stomach. His voice. His words. The way his lips moved, the emotions in his noises. Noise. How badly Will had missed it. It made him wonder what else he missed and didn't realize, but he didn't let his mind wander that way. Will couldn't say he was surprised by Hannibal's words, aside from the verbalization of them. It's not as if he wanted to hide, say he didn't know what Hannibal was talking about. They were past that point. No more glass walls between them. But he couldn't figure out how to respond. It had been so long since he had spoken to Hannibal, it felt foreign. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The nightmares taste like the cold sea. Open and never-ending, filled with dark mysteries we’ll never face. It makes me miss the things I once had, the things that weren't mysteries.” His eyes rested on Hannibal as they usually did, soft and caring and open. Inviting Hannibal to look inside and pick apart his mind. The gaze that met Will’s was the same, curiosity laid behind them too of course. He wouldn't be Hannibal without it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you resent me, Will?” The question was so honest, so broken-sounding in his quiet voice that Will almost imagined Hannibal was cutting out his heart to give to him. Leaning against the bed frame, body weak and tired, nothing like the man he had met all those years ago in Jack’s office. This man had nothing holding him together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you really think I could resent you?” Will had never known Hannibal to be one of worry and anxiety, but the look behind his eyes made Will realize what he feared. “The nightmares remind me of what I had. What was lost. They fill my body with sea-water and I wake up seasick. I don't sleep much anymore because the only thing that stops my body from shaking and the crash of those endless waves is the comfort of being close to you.” His eyes searched Hannibal's face as he spoke, he really needed to shave. Or more likely, have Will do it. Sometimes Will wondered if Hannibal was using his weakness as an excuse to be close to Will, that he could do things but preferred their closeness. “Hannibal,” Saying his name as though it was the first time. Hannibal revealed in it, although he wouldn't admit it. “You really think that I would confine myself to sit outside your door at night, waiting for you to die? Or containing my urges to do it myself?” Will felt weirdly distant from Hannibal, craving intimacy to assure this man that he would never harm him. But they hadn't embraced since the fall. They hadn't talked till now. So the distance was safe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cunning boy, maybe it's not something I was fearing.” And there was a smile on his lips. So small and slight that only Will would notice, but he did notice. He smiled softly back and shook his head, watching Hannibal's face closely. They were silent for a moment, Will’s eyes drifting to his hands that rested on his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it bothers you, I’ll just stay in my room.” And that's when it happened. So soft and sudden, without warning. Hannibal laughed. Chuckled, really, until Will flinched in reaction, eyes darting back to Hannibal. That made Hannibal actually laugh and it was so warm and so un-Hannibal that Will couldn't help but smile at him. So confused and dazed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would prefer if you came closer, Will. I'll never deny you comfort.” And so Will smiled sheepishly. He had crawled to sit next to Hannibal against the headboard, unsure. As the nights grew on, the space between them lessened until every morning they were a tangle of limbs, and every night Will fell asleep with his head against Hannibal's chest. The silence returned as if they hadn't talked that night. And Will didn't feel seasick anymore. And he didn't miss the sea. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next time felt hopeless. Early morning air filtered through the windows in Hannibal’s room, the normal Cuban air felt cold. They had been existing in their comfortable silence for a few weeks, some words exchanged, soft smiles, but never more. Never a discussion about this newfound routine, Will guessed it wasn’t weird. Not for them. Nothing really felt weird with them, just another addition to the things that made them inseparable. That didn’t stop the resentment from coming back. The resentment for the quiet. It felt wrong, to talk, to progress, to end up in each other’s grip - even if it wasn’t fully purposefully - and remain silent. To exist in this standstill. That morning, Hannibal had awakened alone. As he sat up, he tried to pretend that he wasn’t saddened by it. Enjoying the early mornings when they laid awake, each pretending to be asleep so they could stay in their embrace longer. Hannibal got out of bed, tugging a robe on as he shuffled to the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will?” He muttered somewhat loudly into the empty hallway. It wasn’t that he was worried about Will, the man could take care of himself, he just wondered if something was wrong. Hannibal had felt unsure, which used to be a rarity for the man. This weakness, healing that was taking an irritatingly long time, the silence. The silence was Hannibal’s fault, he knew. Yet, he didn’t resent it. He enjoyed the peace and quiet, the way Will would catch him looking. But he could tell that there was resentment. For this life, or for the silence, or - what Hannibal feared most - for the weakened man Hannibal had become. As he made his way downstairs, he thought about all the things he had started doing again. It couldn’t be his cooking or their long walks around town. He doubted Will minded the scruff that Hannibal had required, too tired to shave. Will wasn’t a shallow man. It wasn’t in him to be upset about the unchangeable parts, like the bullet wound in his abdomen. So he settled on the silence. It had to be the silence. When he found himself in their kitchen, the house bright with sunlight, he found Will. His overgrown brown hair curling past his neck, he would pin it away from his face sometimes and blush whenever he found Hannibal admiring him. He looked foolish. Hannibal adored it. “Will?” He repeated, watching the man who was sitting on the floor. Will looked up for just a moment to catch Hannibal’s gaze. The look behind his eyes whenever he heard Hannibal talk. Oh, his eyes looked red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” What was the tone in his voice? It was hoarse as if he hadn’t slept. He looked like a wreck. Well, more of one than usual. Hannibal, bracing himself on the counter with one hand, lowered himself to join Will on the kitchen floor. It ached, but it didn’t hurt anymore. Will’s eyes stayed on his body, worry laced in his eyes before Hannibal settled in front of him. Once he seemed comfortable, Will looked at the ground avoiding him completely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you get any sleep?” He kept his voice low, casual, his accent thick. The days spent apart were filled with Hannibal talking to himself quietly in Lithuanian, whispering </span>
  <em>
    <span>mylimasis</span>
  </em>
  <span> into Will’s hair in the mornings. Will always heard the foreign language being mumbled under Hannibal’s breath, always wanted to ask him what he was saying, but didn’t want to break their silence. So he just listened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it look like it?” Raspy voice, a harsh cold laugh that followed as he still avoided Hannibal’s gaze. It was sharp, unkind, not like how Will normally acted. Hannibal wasn’t hurt by the tone, more curious. Questioning eyes traced Will’s face, his curls to the scar on his cheek to his chapped lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I can’t say it does, Will. Is something wrong?” His voice was steady and calm, trying to be a comforting light in the darkness that had crept into their kitchen this morning. Talking didn’t feel weird, or new, it felt familiar and old. Maybe that’s why Hannibal avoided it, the reminders of who they used to be. The past wasn’t a mistake. But it held weight to it that neither man seemingly wanted to touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s,” Will started, his voice still shaky as if he had been crying. He had been, Hannibal could tell. He didn’t mention it. Something in Will’s body language was off, the way his hands gestured around him at a loss for words. Much like the man Hannibal had met many years ago, except he didn’t wear his glasses anymore. “-everything.” Will finished, gulping down the anxiety in his chest. He looked moments away from crying or yelling, Hannibal prepared himself for either. It surprised him every time he woke up and Will was still next to him, still silent. He was honestly surprised Will hadn’t broken yet, not that he wanted Will to be upset. All he ever wanted was Will to be okay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to have to be more specific, Will.” Trying to tip him off his edge, trying to break whatever was left that kept Will’s face calm. Will rolled his eyes and attempted to stand up, but Hannibal reached out a hand to keep him sitting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop fucking with me!” He had grabbed Hannibal’s hand to stop it, holding it tightly. The anger that was red on his face calmed slightly as he looked at their hands. Letting his hand fall, Will looked away unable to meet his gaze. The edge to his voice bit Hannibal’s skin and his eyes tried to uncover Will’s meaning in his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you mean, dear boy.” Will huffed and buried his face in his hands, kicking himself for even saying anything. Of course, Hannibal would find him crying on their kitchen floor, but maybe he had hoped to be found. After Hannibal was met with silence, he prodded again. “Will, would you like to explain how I’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> with you? Help me understand?” Those blue eyes darted to him as he spoke, humor behind his eyes at hearing Hannibal mimic his wording. But he gulped it down and glanced away again, gitting his teeth and sighing. Was Hannibal really this naive? Or was he just finding fun in seeing Will upset? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t,” Behind his eyes were the spiraling thoughts he was having, Hannibal watched trying to look at him gently. “Can’t, uh, can’t take this, this,” Will was stumbling over his words, repeating and stuttering looking as lost as his mind had been the past weeks. Weakly, he tried to look at Hannibal and gesture to the air to get him to understand but, of course, Hannibal just cocked his head and waited. “I can’t take this silence! This standstill, this,” His voice was trying to be strong but Hannibal would hear the weakness in it. Will waved his hand between him and Hannibal. “This!” Hannibal nodded softly, eyes holding Will’s gaze with kindness. That made Will scoff and look away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you wish that I would talk more, I will. I would read you novels, I would describe the meals I serve you, I would talk endlessly about the way you look or the way it feels to have your body tangled with mine if it would please you.” The words were heavy, intimate, loving in their own way. They made Will’s face flush for a moment before he looked back at Hannibal, tears settled in his eyes. Oh, how badly he wanted to reach out and stroke Will’s face, wipe his tears away. But he didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would please me to know how you feel. What is going on in your head? I think I deserve that much at least.” There was guilt behind his voice as if he felt guilty for asking. “I gave up everything for you, Hannibal. I helped you escape, I killed the dragon, I threw myself off a fucking cliff,” He was laughing that harsh cold empty laugh as he spoke, raising his voice as he talked. What he was laughing at, Hannibal didn’t find funny. He just watched him intensely as he ranted on. “I left my perfect wife and our </span>
  <em>
    <span>child</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I abandoned my fucking dogs, Hannibal.” There was a strange smile on his face, as the tears he had been holding back started to roll over his cheek. Laughing and crying mixing. “I gave up everything, and for what? For a man who’s hurt me, ruined me, taken everything from me. For a man who doesn’t talk to me, who lets me avoid him, who confines his affection to when I’m half asleep in his arms!” Will had stood up, not lending a hand to help Hannibal as he started pacing. He groaned and looked at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears trailing down his cheeks. “This whole thing was a fucking mistake,” It was muttered but Hannibal flinched at the words, making Will look over at him apologetically. He watched as Hannibal slowly lifted himself up to his feet, leaning heavily against the countertop, eyes meeting Will’s when he was standing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand,” Will took a step towards Hannibal as he spoke, eyes apologetic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Hannibal, I-” But Hannibal cut him off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I apologize. I’ve hurt you in unimaginable ways. So I need to say I’m sorry.” The two men were standing close, probably the closest they had been aside from helping Hannibal up and down the stairs and the mornings they spent together. “You forgave me, long ago if my memory serves me right.” Which they knew it did, lost in his memory palace. “But I never apologized. Not then, not after. Not until now. So,” He lifted a hand to Will’s cheek gently, slowly as if not to scare him away. “I sorrow in what I have done to you. My actions were never justified, even if they were what led us here to know. And I will be forever grateful that you chose me when you never had too. If I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, my dear boy, I would do so happily.” Will didn’t dare to look away, feeling Hannibal close to him, understanding his sorrow more personally than anyone ever had. If his cheeks were flushed, neither of them mentioned it. Hannibal almost leaned to kiss him, but he didn’t. Not now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just want you to talk to me.” An air of humor in his voice as he looked at Hannibal, his eyes not watering anymore. But then his tone was pleading. “Please?” Hannibal nodded, letting his hand fall reluctantly from Will’s face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, mylimasis. Anything for you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The third time was overwhelmingly nice. It was mid-August, the hot and humid air had settled under their skin and they welcomed it. Maybe it was their casual banter or the evenings they spent together, the casual and welcome touches, but they were beginning to feel at home here. Will hadn’t yelled at Hannibal since the kitchen incident, he tried to ignore it had ever happened and Hannibal let him. Not wanting to interrupt the domesticity of their new life together. Things had grown comfortable, there were days of silence, but they were usually filled with talkative nights. Aside from their grown-out hair, which Will insisted was to make them less recognizable - but Hannibal was sure it was an excuse by the way Will would comb his fingers through Hannibal’s hair in the sleepy mornings - they were seemingly the same men they once had been. Hannibal talked, long and endlessly about many things Will didn’t understand, he spent his days cooking or reading, and although he was somewhat softened, neither of them minded. Will had started fishing again, although he rarely caught anything worth eating, and listened to Hannibal talk. They appreciated the comfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does it mean?” They were laying on one of the couches in their living room, a place they found themselves most nights. On occasion, Hannibal would play their harpsichord, which he somehow obtained a few months ago. Most nights they would read, or talk, or drink and fall half asleep together on the couch until one of them dragged them up into their bed. Hannibal looked up from his book as Will spoke, but found the younger man’s attention focused on Milo. Although Hannibal himself had never owned a dog, he had always been attached to the empathy Will showed his old dogs and ever since Will mentioned abandoning his dogs, Hannibal had been determined to find Will one. Milo was a stray, of course, Will wouldn’t have had it any other way, that they had founded walking one night. He wasn’t a very attractive dog at first but after many hours of bathing and washing and trimming, Milo ended up being a white labrador. He had eaten and fallen asleep at the foot of Hannibal and Will’s bed. Neither of the men had minded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It?” Hannibal asked, closing his book and resting it on the table next to him, watching Will at the other end of the couch, dog in his lap. Milo had fattened up, weighting probably as much as Will had before Hannibal had started feeding him right too. The dog’s short white fur was soft, Will had found a sweet spot behind his ear and was letting the dog lay across his chest, head resting over Will’s heart, drooling slightly. The joy that sat behind Will’s eyes as he looked up at Hannibal, they both knew Will didn’t regret this anymore. Will shook his head and returned his gaze to the dog. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That word you keep calling me.” Hannibal was silent, smile soft on his lips as Milo’s tail started to wag in pleasure, thumping against the couch. “You started whispering it to me in the mornings, and now you call me it almost as often as you say my name.” His voice was soft and blissful, his fingers finding treasure under Milo’s collar, and the thumping speed up. When Hannibal remained silent still he looked up, the question in his eyes. “You know, uh,” He thought for a moment, the word on his tongue. “Myli-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mylimasis.” Light danced in Will’s blue eyes and he nodded. It was hard to believe that Will had changed, had accepted his dark desires. He had killed the dragon and enjoyed every second of it, yet here he sat with a dog covering his body, a playful look in his eyes. “It means,” Hannibal thought for a moment, trying to find the right word. “Beloved.” Will’s breathe caught for a second, his face flushed slightly, and his smile lightened even more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” His voice faltered, unsure of how to respond. Hannibal tilted his head and smiled back, not letting Will’s eyes break away from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” That made Will roll his eyes. “Are you surprised, Will?” Will shrugged and looked away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bedelia told me that you were in love with me, so I guess not.” It was weird to reflect on the memory, to verbalize the feelings they both knew Hannibal felt. Will looked back at Hannibal to see his reaction, he showed none. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will,” His voice was tentative, gentle, a question coming but he almost sounded scared to ask. Not that he was, he was Hannibal. Nothing scared him. Before he spoke Will buried a hand in the fur of Milo’s belly, looking at the dog with unadulterated love and spoke so casually Hannibal could have missed it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m in love with you too,” A simple glance his way, the love in his gaze not faltering. “If that’s what you were going to ask.” It was, he knew. It was so simple and normal. Yes, Will had confessed his love when he had thrown the two of them into the sea. But this verbal admission, with their dog on his lap, in their home, it made Hannibal feel like a regular person. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Unconsciously, Hannibal moved closer to the end of the couch where Will was. His hand slowly started to pet Milo’s back, his eyes watching Will’s movements. It was warm and simple and they were close and Hannibal couldn’t think. He felt lost in the daydreams from his days in prison when he felt silly for ever thinking Will would come back. Will let his free hand come up to Hannibal’s face, brushing his cheek, finding its way into his hair and letting it find its place at the base of his skull, cradling his head. Hannibal leaned forward, their noses brushing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Crash. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The noise caught the men off-guard as the large, and notoriously clumsy, lab fell onto the floor. He shook himself off, getting back to his feet as per usual. Tail wagging, big eyes looking up at his owners excitedly. The two men, who were a moment away from locking lips, were both staring at the dog who had fallen from between them. It was Hannibal who started laughing first, Will’s hand falling from its place on the back of his head. Will scrambled off the couch, his grin wide as he fumbled into a sitting position next to Milo, beginning to scratch behind his ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that, buddy?” It was as if nothing had happened, and really nothing had. They were the same way they had been, had grown accustomed too. Will shot Hannibal an apologetic look as he stood up, hand still petting their dog. “I think he wants to go on a walk?” Hannibal stood up, their bodies close again. He smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then let’s go on a walk.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I got very carried away with this one but I hope you enjoy it. Soft, I know, but I tried to write some angst. These boys own my heart, and so does them sharing a dog so- Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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